


Past Lovers

by jamhands



Series: Entwined [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3432191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamhands/pseuds/jamhands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Single shot in which the Inquisitor opens up to Cullen about her past - and her past lovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fan fic I've ever written, and the first thing I've written in several years. This scene came to me when I was sick with a fever and wouldn't let my mind rest until I wrote it all down. I don't know if I'll write more yet or not, though I have some ideas to expand into a series.
> 
> Close to canon, though some minor details might be off.

With a sigh, they both fell back into the pillows, she on her back, him on his side with one leg draped over hers, casually, possessively. The thin sheet over their sweating bodies did little to protect from the cold air coming in the open balcony door, but neither wanted to move, feeling heavy and sated after their exertions. Cullen's breath slowed, and he seemed about to sleep, but Myria's heart was racing in her chest and she could not stop herself from saying, “Cullen?”

 

“Hmm?” His voice was husky and thick.

 

Myria stared above her towards the distant and dark ceiling, only the moon's meager light brightening her chambers. “Have you had other lovers?” she finally asked.

 

Cullen was quiet and still beside her for several heartbeats. Finally he replied, “Yes.” _Of course he has. He's nearly a decade older than me, that's to be expected._ Then, “why do you ask?”

 

Trying to keep her voice light, Myria answered, “I was just wondering how you got so good at that.” Cullen snorted softly and shifted, but Myria continued staring towards the ceiling. Guilt gnawed at her, and she couldn't keep it to herself much longer.

 

“Have you?” Cullen asked after a moment.

 

“Yes.”

 

When it didn't seem like he was going to say anything further, Myria added, “my first love was a templar.”

 

“Really?” Cullen propped his head on one hand and peered at her in the dark, but Myria refused to meet his gaze.

 

“Well, in the way that I was a silly young girl and my love was completely unrequited,” she confessed.

Cullen gave a small laugh and settled back into the pillows. “You don't have to tell me about... what happened before. You're allowed to have secrets. I know you had a life before I met you,” he said softly.

 

“I'd like to tell you, if you don't mind,” she insisted, aware that it might hurt him, but needing to get it out. “It's part of what made me who I am. I want you to know me, all of me. Who I was before.”

 

“Okay,” he answered, clearly unsure, not understanding her need to explain, to divulge her deepest secrets. He did not share her compulsive need to lay herself bare.

 

“I went to the Circle when I was eleven,” she began. “The Ostwick Circle was quiet, and boring, and there weren't many my age there. I was quit naïve. When I was fifteen, we got a new templar, his name was Brant, it was his first assignment. He was younger than the others, and attractive, and my best friend Cerise and I were madly in love with him.” The words came quickly, tumbling out without much thought, as if she had rehearsed them. “We knew it was forbidden, of course, but that made it all the sweeter. When Brant was patrolling the grounds, we knew that he always walked clockwise around the gardens. We'd walk the opposite direction, and every time we passed him, we'd blush and giggle. He obviously knew we were infatuated, but he always tried to act like he didn't notice. Cerise and I would talk at night, in the dormitory – we convinced ourselves that he had always loved mage girls, and had become a templar just so he could be near them.

 

“It was silly, of course. Until one day I went back to the dormitory after lessons, and Cerise wasn't there. She and Brant had been caught kissing, and they were both transferred to other, more strict Circles.”

 

Myria paused, and frowned in the dark. “I didn't know which was worse – that I had been betrayed by my best friend, or that she was gone and I had no one else. Even though I thought I had loved Brant, I knew all along that it was an impossible fantasy. I think what hurt the most is the fact that Brant turned out to be fallible, but chose Cerise over me. But I think I would have forgiven her, if she hadn't left me so alone.” She sighed. “I became withdrawn and moody. Basically swore off men, not that it mattered – I didn't have a lot of options.

 

“Two years later, Darren came to the Circle. He had been an apostate, and his family sheltered him until they turned him in to the templars one day. He never told us why, just that there had been a 'misunderstanding' and that his family had betrayed him.” Another sigh escaped Myria's lips as she recalled the headstrong, attractive boy. “He raged for weeks after being brought to the Circle, and we all feared he would be made Tranquil. Eventually he seemed to become resigned to his fate, and settled down, though he we always a bad fit for our Circle. He was boisterous, and charming, and really shook things up for us. But he dragged me out of my shell, got me to laugh again, and flattered me with his attentions. I'd never felt desirable before Darren pursued me, and I gave myself to him gladly.

 

“I was deliriously happy with him for some time. You know romantic relationships are discouraged in the Circles, but at Ostwick, the Senior Enchanters only intervened if couples were really obvious, or if they thought you were distracted from your studies. Then, one day, out of nowhere, Darren tells me that he can't be tied down to one person, that it's like caging a bird, and against human nature. He told me that he loved me, but he knew he could love others as well, and didn't I see that this was for the best? We could both love whoever we wanted, explore the limited opportunities for happiness that our sheltered life afforded.” Myria knotted the sheet between her hands, frustrated. “I agreed with him, only because I didn't want to lose him completely. I knew if I said no, he'd just move on. So I tried to do as he wanted, but there wasn't anybody else I wanted to be with, and it became too painful watching him flirt openly with my friends in the Circle. I eventually broke it off with him, though I did find my way to his bed several more times over the years. Like after my Harrowing.”

 

Cullen was quiet, and she was afraid to look at him. What could he be thinking about her confessions? And what did she want from him? The words came unbidden, flowing from her like water through a cracked dam.

 

“After my Harrowing, I began to take lessons from Enchanter Jared. He was eccentric, and obsessed with his studies, so he didn't teach regular classes at the Circle, just lectures occasionally. He took a special interest in me, asked me to assist him with his research. His attention flattered me, though he was twenty-two years my senior and I knew it would be improper for us to have any sort of romantic relationship. Before him I hadn't been all that focused on my studies, but Jared convinced me I had a great talent that I should nurture. I don't know if he was right, but I was desperate to impress him, so I started working harder, really put effort into my studies, and it paid off. I could feel myself becoming more powerful, a better mage. We spent hours together, working on his projects or him teaching me new things. Then we started sleeping together.

 

“I'm not really sure how it started. At first I thought it was so passionate, the secret trysts, hiding our relationship. Jared was adamant that no one find out. It wasn't a _real_ relationship, I knew that, but I thought it was enough. I thought it was the best I could do.

 

“One day, it suddenly became clear – though we'd fuck in his study or the library-” she felt Cullen wince at her words, but plowed ahead, “that was all it was. When I'd try to embrace him, or hold his hand, even though we were alone, he'd brush me off. He said I was a distraction. But he'd still invite me to work with him, we'd end up on the floor together, and afterward, he'd get back to whatever he was doing before. I came to realize we didn't actually have a relationship at all.” Her throat tightened. “I'd been so foolish,” she choked out.

 

“I didn't know what to do. Jared had helped me so much, and I didn't want to stop working with him, though I felt used. Dirty. But I think he felt me pull away, get a little bit cold, because he stopped asking for me as often. He often seemed disappointed in me, or frustrated.”

 

Myria was quiet, and she could sense that Cullen was trying to formulate a response, but when he cleared his throat as if to speak, she continued ahead.

 

“Darren was the one who led the rebellion in our Circle, who pushed for the vote. The night before we were to vote, he told me that he always knew I was destined for great things, that I would escape the confines of the Circle and make my mark on the world. I didn't believe him.” She barked a short laugh. “I thought he was just trying to sway me to his side. If he could see me now!” She sighed heavily.

“I was such a coward. When we voted, I waited until I could see that the vast majority were voting to leave before I raised my hand and joined them. I didn't really want to leave, but I didn't want to get left behind either. Jared was one of the few who didn't vote to break away. After the vote, he looked at me and said flatly, 'You're an idiot. You'll get killed out there.'” Myria's nostrils flared as she remembered the enchanter's cold stare. “And it wasn't because he was concerned for me, either. He really thought I was an idiot.

 

“So, we walked out. I don't know why the templars allowed it, but nobody tried to stop us. Perhaps they had orders, or maybe they just collectively decided they didn't want to face all of us together. If one person, one mage or templar, had attacked another, it would have been a disaster, for both sides. But instead we just left.

 

“I spent the first night away from the Circle hiding with the other mages. In the morning, I hid my staff, put on regular clothes, and walked across the city to my family's estate. I'd never felt so vulnerable before, so terrified. The whole city was on edge and I thought I felt eyes burning into me, judging me, seeing my secret. When I finally reached my destination, I was ushered quickly into a small sitting room, away from the rest of the family and even the servants. I asked my parents to take me back, told them that I didn't believe in the war, but that the Circle had collapsed. I had nowhere else to go. I even promised not to use magic in their home.

 

“They told me that they loved me, but they couldn't possibly harbor an apostate, a criminal, a sinner against the Chantry.” This memory was especially bitter. “I remember my father's scowl, and my mother's tears. I don't think she was crying for me, though – she kept sobbing, 'we'll lose everything!' They pushed money into my hands, told me to go far away, to hide, and they shut the door in my face.

“I was hurt, but not surprised – in truth, I had known what their answer would be before I had resolved to ask. I had only gone to them because I didn't know what else to do, not because I expected them to take me back. So I returned to the other mages. I had lost my family, and I realized I didn't know how to live in the world, having been shut away for more than a decade.”

 

Myria hadn't intended to speak about the rebellion, or her family – not now, at least – but she found it all tangled up with the men from her past, and she felt she couldn't stop the unburdening.

 

“None of the Ostwick mages really hated templars then, except maybe Darren. Most of them just wanted to be free. But there was no place for them, for us. Those of us that stayed together got swept into the war. Darren led us. I refused to fight, but they let me stay with them as a healer. I had nowhere else to go. We moved around a lot. My friends were hurt, and killed.” She didn't consciously tally up the losses she had suffered, but saw their faces flicker in the dark.

 

“Word reached us about the Conclave, and I told Darren I wanted to attend. He scoffed at me, told me I was a fool for believing peace could be made between us and the templars. The templars wouldn't rest until magic had been purged from the world, he said.” A pause, as she exhaled heavily. “He was killed a few days later. They brought him to me, but there was nothing I could do. It was too late. The templars – they didn't make it quick.” This memory is one that burns too brightly, she can see all the horrific details on the inside of her eyelids, and frequently in her nightmares. Myria's throat tightened painfully and her eyes burned. “They had cut off his hands, so he couldn't cast, and his feet, so he couldn't run. I suppose they were about to cut off his head, when they were killed themselves. It would have been a mercy if they had finished.”

 

Cullen was surprisingly still. It seemed he was holding his breath. Myria wasn't sure if she wanted to be comforted or not, if she even could be. Or perhaps she should be assuring Cullen that she knew all templars weren't like that?

 

“I watched him die, he bled out and I couldn't stop it, nobody could. He looked at me, and I wanted him to say something, to tell me that I had been right to seek an end to the war, that he gave his blessing. Some parting word to let me know that he trusted me to do the right thing. But he died, in agony, and without saying a word.”

 

Myria realized she had been squeezing her chest unconsciously, choking on the pain there. She forced out a deep, halting breath. “I left the next day for the Conclave.”

 

Cullen hesitantly rested one hand on her stomach, and Myria shuddered slightly at the touch. “I'm sorry for the pain you've suffered,” he whispered, and though Myria knew his own pain was greater, she also knew he was genuine, and would take it away if he could, would harbor it for her.

 

“Obviously I have a history of loving the wrong men,” she said with a sigh tinged with wry amusement, and Cullen chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. He shifted as if to gather her into his arms, but Myria had one thing left she had to explain, and she blurted it out before he had a chance to pull her closer.

 

“In Haven, I didn't flirt with you just because I liked you. I liked the way I could make you so uncomfortable, the way you'd answer my questions even though I could tell you didn't really want to. I felt I had the upper hand for once in my life. I saw the way you looked at me when you thought no one was watching, and I reveled in it. In the power I had over you. I told myself that I wouldn't fall for you, that I would never give another man the power to use me, to hurt me. I manipulated you.” There. Myria huffed out a breath, relief and trepidation warring within her.

 

They were both quiet and still. Myria wanted to break the silence, but now, after everything, she couldn't think of what to say. Her pulse, loud in her ears, counted out the tense seconds.

Finally, “when did you change your mind?” Cullen asked softly.  _You did change your mind, didn't you?_

Myria knew the exact moment everything had changed for her. “The night we – when Corypheus attacked,” she replied, with a hitch in her voice. She couldn't bring herself to say, _the night we lost Haven._ “When we made the plan for me to fire the trebuchet, I knew there was a good chance I would not survive. But I was okay with that, if I could save everybody else.” Cullen made a small, pained noise at the memory. “Then I saw you. You were trying so hard to keep everything together, to stay in control. But I could see that you were terrified – not just for the village, but for me. The guilt hit me in the stomach, because I'd caused you to feel that way, to care for me. I'd led you on, and now I was probably going to die and leave you mourning me. I felt like shit, but there wasn't time to say anything, and I didn't know what I would say anyway. I just felt a deep sense of regret.

 

“When I woke up after the collapse, I hurt so bad, the physical pain pushed away anything else I was feeling. I trudged out into the snow, not knowing where I was going. I'd never known that exhaustion before, or been in so much pain.” The blood seemed to leech from her limbs with the memory, and she shivered, pulling the sheet up underneath her chin. The overwhelming _cold,_ while her face burned with heat, sweat trickling down her back and freezing. The tingling pain, then the lack of feeling at all. “As I walked, I started to think, _It's okay. You've done enough. You can lay down and go to sleep.”_ Myria swallowed heavily. She hadn't spoken aloud before about how welcoming death had seemed at the time, a comfort she had struggled to deny herself. “I passed a campfire, and I thought about stopping, but I realized I couldn't even summon a small flame to light it again. I knew that if I laid down, I wouldn't get up again. I kept walking, barely moving forward, but not giving up – and I realized it was because of you.” A lump rose in her throat. “I could see you perfectly, and I felt that you were directly in front of me, I was walking straight to you, even though I had no idea where you were, or if you were even alive. But then I stumbled, and when I felt the snow on my cheek, I knew I wouldn't be able to get up again. I couldn't make my arms and legs work right. Everything started to go gray. Then I heard your voice calling, and I didn't know if it was real or not, but I just thought, _everything is going to be okay.”_

 

Maker damn her compulsive need to never let things rest, to pick, to worry. Cullen had been her steady rock in the center of a world trying its hardest to fall to pieces. Through their struggles he had brought her nothing but comfort and joy, and she had to release this torrent on him, possibly push him away. He had more than enough of his own worries, how could she be so selfish to dump all of this on him? What could he possibly say after all that?

 

All this time, Myria hadn't met his eyes. Now Cullen turned her suddenly limp and exhausted body into his own, held her chin with one hand, and kissed her softly on the forehead, then each eyelid. She let out a shuddering breath. “You are a singularly amazing woman,” he whispered, then tucked her head under his chin. She breathed in his familiar scent and felt his heartbeat against her, strong and reassuring. After a moment he added drily, “but if you expect tales of such profundity about the women I've slept with, you are sorely out of luck.”

 

Relief and elation bubbled to the service, and Myria laughed helplessly, tears against his skin, reveling in this new release. Cullen kissed the top of her head, then chuckled himself as she struggled to compose herself.

 

Finally Myria blotted her eyes with the sheet. “Well,” she said cheekily as she rolled to straddle him, “my regards to your excellent teachers.”

 

 


End file.
